


Into the Black

by MnemonicMadness



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefly Verse, Angst, BAMF Bones, BAMF Khan, BAMF Kirk, Bad chinese swearing, Bullshit Science, Cannibalism, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, I might be slightly obsessed with that, Minor Character Death, Multi, Psychic Khan, Reavers - Freeform, Section 31, Slow Build, The AU no-one asked for but I wrote anyway, Torture, Violence, War, Whump, firefly - Freeform, lots of BAMF in general, mentions of Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:26:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5353964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MnemonicMadness/pseuds/MnemonicMadness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years ago, Jim fought on the side of Starfleet in the Federation War against Section 31 - a war Starfleet lost bitterly. Now that he has his own small ship and crew, all he wants is to earn enough money to keep flying while staying unterneath the Section's radar. It shouldn't be that much to ask, really.</p><p>Until a certain cryopod gets dumped onto his ship, leading him to the trail of the Section's new, sinister plans and what might be the brink of another war. Yeah, the 'verse really likes to screw him over.</p><p>No need to have watched Firefly to understand this (though you should watch it anyway, it's the definition of awesomness [and shiny])</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Black

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I own neither Star Trek nor Firefly, only this story and the mistakes are mine (if you see any, please tell me!).
> 
> In case someone is wondering, I haven't abandoned my [Tarsus](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4265661/chapters/9657408) story (shameless self-promotion is shameless), this plot bunny (or should I say plot Tribble?) has been in my head for a while and it kept growing...
> 
> For those who haven't seen Firefly (it's epic, you should watch it!):  
> In the Firefly 'verse, humans have left Earth and are now living in a star cluster on terraformed moons and planets. There's no warp speed and no aliens (Spock is still Spock, don't worry), the Core Worlds are rich, the Border Planets aren't and the Rim even less so. That's all you need to know.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this story!! I welcome any kind of feedback!

**11 years ago - Vega [border planet], Starfleet stronghold**

Chris Pike shakes his head disbelievingly while he musters the blonde boy in front of him. The kid - because there's no doubt in his mind that he's indeed still a kid - is scrawny, his clothes are worn down, his blonde hair messy and in dire need of being cut, but his eyes are bluer than the sky and shining with determination. There's a sharp intelligence in them that he really doesn't want to find himself at the wrong end of.

The boy's voice is strong and equally determined when he repeats: "I'm eighteen years old. Sir."

Chris can't help himself and snorts, still shaking his head. If nothing else, that boy has some nerve. "Let's do this one more time, kid. How old are you really?"

The kid opens his mouth but shuts it without insisting on his age again, instead he tilts his head, eyes narrowing and Pike can practically hear the gears shift and whir in his head, just like he can see the moment the kid makes his decision, opting for a new strategy.

"What does it matter? I'm old enough and you don't have a lot of options right now."

Now genuinely intrigued, Pike weaves his hand in a universal sign for 'Go on.'.

"I know that Starfleet's running low on, well, pretty much everything right now. You've just lost a lot of ships and men in the battle for Andor, almost the entire sixth battalion, I think. Of course that's not exactly good for the recruitment quotas, which is bad since right now you need people more than ever. You just can't afford to be picky."

A lump forms in his throat at the reminder of just how many people the 'fleet had lost in the battle. Good people. The battle had lasted almost three weeks, the 'fleet's troops holding their own, cut off from reinforcements, against a technologically far superior Section 31, until they'd been forced to surrender two days ago, ships either annihilated or out of any power beyond that was necessary for life support, some even out of that. A bloodbath. He swallows thickly and sees the kid's piercing gaze flicker to his Adam's apple, relieved when the boy simply continues.

"I'm healthy, I've got decent engineering skills, I know basic first aid and how to pilot most of the smaller spaceships and I volunteer. With all due respect, sir, you need me."

He may not want to admit it, but the kid has a point. Once again his gaze sweeps over the kid, taking in his narrow figure, the big eyes, the still soft, childlike features but also the determination and hardness written all over his face, the tension in his already toned muscles, the maturity in his eyes and he makes up his mind. There is no way the kid is an adult and it pains him in a fundamental, instinctive way to send someone this young into war but he gives in nonetheless. He really doesn't have a lot of options right now.

"What's your name, kid?"

Confusion flickers over the young face, quickly followed by a gleam of triumph.

"Jim Kirk, sir."

He nods and hands him the PADD with the necessary forms with an inaudible sigh and there's no hesitation before the kid signs them.

"Well then. Welcome to Starfleet, Jim Kirk."

* * *

 

**6 months ago - Unknown location, Section 31 Human Engineering, Military Operations and Research [HEMOR] Facility 1  
**

TRANSCRIPT:

SUBJEKT KNS72339 [in the following: SUB]

SESSION 864

CONDUCTED BY: Dr Varez IDENTIFICATION NUMBER V45801

SUB is brought in by two security personnel, sits down at the table as instructed. _Note: SUB seems pliant, new sedative is effective._ Varez enters, sits at the opposite side of the table, SUB does not make eye contact or react in any visible manner.

Varez [speaking gently]: _How are you today?_

SUB does not react.

Varez: _You have lost weight. I was told you have been refusing to eat this week, as well as the last._

SUB does not react.

Varez: _Why haven't you eaten the last two weeks?_

SUB does not react.

Varez [louder]: _Look at me._

SUB does not react.

Varez [sitting up straighter, speaking loud and commanding]: _I said look at me!_

SUB raises his head slowly, eyes are bloodshot with dark circles around them. SUB's cheeks are slightly more sunken in due to the recent weight loss. SUB establishes eye contact but appears dazed. _Note: Side effect of the sedative or sign of SUB's deteriorating mental state?_

Varez: _Why haven't you been eating?_

SUB tilts his head to the right.

SUB [voice seems hoarse]: _I needed to prepare._

Varez [confused]: _Prepare for what?_

SUB [insistent]: _The food is my death warrant. Like the ones out in the black, always lurking and hungry. Of course they seek protection and information._

Varez: _Who wants what kind of information? Protection from whom?_

SUB shakes his head, lets out a deep chuckle.

SUB: _They want to cut me open and read it from my intestines like those of a goat on Earth-That-Was. But they can't, I need to prepare._

Varez: _Prepare for what?_

SUB: _I have a purpose now. A mission._

Varez: _What mission do you have?_

SUB does not answer but holds eye contact with Varez.

Varez [irritated]: _What mission do you have?_

SUB: _Dr Harewood gave me a mission._

Varez: _What mission?_

SUB does not react.

Varez: _What's your mission, KNS72339?_

SUB: _I can't tell you._

Varez: _Why can't you tell me what your mission is?_

SUB: _Dr Harewood said that I can't tell you my mission._

Varez [demanding]: _Tell me anyway!_

SUB: _I can't tell you._

SUB tilts his head further, is silent for a moment, seems to consider.

SUB: _I can't tell but I can whisper it._

Varez seems confused but holds eye contact while SUB is waiting. Vares stands up hesitatingly. SUB flinches at the scraping noise of Varez' chair. Varez slowly walks around the table, standing next to SUB. SUB does not react until Varez bends down.

SUB [whispers]: _This is my mission._

SUB's hands seize Varez' head, one hand over each temple. Varez yelps and struggles, tries to pull back and claws at SUB's arms. SUB stands up, the scratches on his arms are healed within seconds. _Note: Dr Baris is making good progress on the polyadenylation._ SUB increases the pressure, Varez screams, struggles again without success. SUB begins to flush with exertion. Varez' skull cracks audibly, SUB increases pressure further, Varez goes limp. After approx. 2.46 seconds Varez' skull shatters completely, SUB does not react to the brain tissue hitting him. Varez' now headless body falls to the ground, remnants of the skull remain between SUB's hands.

Harewood: _Well done. You've completed your mission._

SUB turns to look at Harewood [IDENTIFICATION NUMBER H55164], still panting. Harewood gives the signal. SUB loses consciousness instantly and collapses next to Varez' body.

EXPERIMENT SUCCESSFUL

END TRANSCRIPT

* * *

 

  **5 years and 8 months ago - Tellar Prime [border planet], Starfleet stronghold**

"Who the hell... Holy shit! J-Jim, is that you?"

"Sir..."

"My god, Jim! I thought you were dead! I... We haven't heard anything since the surrender!"

"I'm sorry, Chris, I just... I didn't know where else to go."

"Please, come in! You look like death frozen and warmed over twice! You should... What the...? Jim, who...? Dr McCoy?"

"Yeah."

"Chris, you know Bones. The others are... Shit. We're all that's left, Chris! Eighty thousand! And we're the only ones left alive, the only ones who survived, just the nine of us. Everyone else is gone. Larris, Dehners, Kilso... They're all gone."

* * *

 

  **3** **days ago - Andoria [core planet], Section 31 HEMOR Facility 3**

For the third time in the last five minutes, Dr Marla McGivers un- and reties her red hair, letting out a sigh that fogs a small spot on the mirror. Her reflection looks tired and worn out in the unflattering light of the lavatory, her skin dry and unhealthily pale with deep, dark rings underneath her hazel eyes. She rubs her cheeks, trying to bring some colour into them and, upon seeing her effort being fruitless, splashes some ice cold water in her face, succeeding only in smudging her make-up. The cold light makes her nose look abnormally large. She fixes the mirror with a hateful glare, wishing she could hit it, but that would attract attention and this is the one moment she really wants to keep any attention away from herself.

Rubbing on the black spot her mascara had left underneath her eye with one hand, she checks the time again with the other and then pulls her PADD from her handbag, logging in to her bank account. She smiles when she sees the number change to a much, much higher one. They were on time and so will she be, so she gives up on trying to fix her make-up, holds her PADD under the stream of icy water until it flickers and turns off, hits it against the edge of the sink until it is awry and the screen is cracked just to be sure, then stuffs it down the rubbish chute, never to be seen again and leaves the lavatory, head held high, gait confident. _Showtime._

When she enters the corridor she's alone and makes her way to the first turbolift unobserved. There will be surveillance videos, but since she has to shut the cameras down she can delete the footage with just a few keystrokes extra. Stepping off the lift she enters a much busier part of the facility, people, her co-workers, darting in and out of laboratories and offices, hurrying up and down corridors, carrying files containing reports on god knows what. It's rare that she has reason to come down here and she half expects people to start questioning her about what she was doing here, nervous sweat dampening her hands, but she calms quickly when the only reaction she gets is the occasional nod of acknowledgement and she nearly scoffs at her own behaviour as well as theirs. Seriously, inside a high-security facility the calibre of HEMOR F3 one could expect to gain more attention by being where one doesn't belong. But these people know her or have at least seen her around, so no one gives her presence a second thought.

She reaches the next turbolift without trouble, hand shaking slightly as she keys in one fo the stolen access codes they'd sent her a few days ago, sending a quick prayer to every deity she can think of that she has memorised it correctly. There's a small humming sound emitted from the touchpad and then finally the light above it lights up in a bright green. As the doors swish open quietly she lets out a breath she hadn't even realised she's been holding. Once inside she types in another code to set the lift in motion, rushing towards a higher level.

She's never been here before, but with the codes came a blueprint of the relevant floors, so she weaves her way around the maze-like structure as if she'd been here a hundred times before, third left, first left, fifth to the right, straight ahead to the end of the corridor and then... then... _Fuck. Left or right?_

She closes her eyes and desperately tries to focus, to remember, fighting the urge to cry or kick a wall in frustration. Taking a beep, somewhat calming breath, she tries again, searching her memory for the blueprint until...

"Uhm, hi Mar... uh, I mean, Dr McGivers!"

 This warrants another deep breath, this one unfortunately not doing a particularly good job in calming her, so her gaze is smouldering when she turns around slowly, hands clenched into fists so tightly that her nails surely leave moon-shaped indentions in the perfectly soft skin of her palms. The face of the bumbling idiot next to her is nearly as red as her hair and he's fidgeting, looking beyond awkward. He's some tech-geek who has been working at HEMOR F3 doing whatever for two years now, though she still can't remember his name, and he's had a hopeless crush on her almost from the beginning, running into her at the most inconvenient times, trying to get her attention like some annoying, awkward puppy. At first it might have been flattering, but now it has become just annoying. Especially right in this moment, when she really needs to concentrate to find... Wait. Actually, this time his feelings might be her advantage.

She gives him her most dazzling fake-smile, which makes him flush even brighter.

"Hi! So good to see you! How are you?"

"G-good! Great actually! You?" he smiles at her happily.

Marla doesn't even have to fake her irritated sigh.

"Same old. I don't really have time to chat, Ayel sent me to get something from Security Office 2109 and, well, you know how he is." she lies smoothly.

The tech-geek what's-his-face, D-something, nods empathetically. "Yeah. Agents, right?"

"Exactly!" Here she pauses, looking down to the floor as if embarrassed, then up at him through her eyelashes and he blushes even further. "Actually, could you help me? I'm not often up here, so I'm kinda lost... Do you know where Office 2109 is?" She flutters her eyelashes at him for good measure.

"S-sure! No problem, I can walk you, if you like!"

She laces her voice thickly with relief to mask her irritation. "Oh gee, thanks! That's so sweet of you! But I really don't want to keep you, if you could just point me in the right direction?"

"Oh, no, that's alright. I'm not that busy right now. I can bring you!"

She can't suppress a sigh and hopes that D-whatever just takes it for relief again. "Thanks, that's really nice!"

The whole walk to the office he blabbers on about this and that, desperately trying to keep the almost painful awkwardness at bay while she only makes noises every now and then to keep up the pretence of listening since she has most of her concentration focused on fighting the rising urge to just tell him to fuck off and get himself a cheap companion for the night, because seriously, that guy needs to get laid but with that face he probably won't find a costless option.

"... so and he's all like 'Yeah, but'... Oh. Here we are, number 2109."

It's hard not to fall to her knees and thank whoever might be listening that the torturous walk is finally over.

"Thanks. See you around." _Hopefully never again._ She rises her hand and enters the right code.

"Oh. Okay, yeah. Uhm... you know, I'm really not busy right now, so, uh, maybe I could, you know, help you find or carry whatever it is you..."

The voice that's been grating on her nerve the last ten minutes is abruptly cut off as she unceremoniously shuts the door in his face, locks and then leans against it and lets out a, this time genuine, sigh of relief. She stands there for a few moments, trying to give her nerves the opportunity to calm. Security Office 2109 is one of the few rooms in this building to have windows, though since it is already dark outside they don't provide much illumination, so she trips over that seems to be a wastepaper bin as soon as she steps away from the door. Cursing, she makes her way over to the computer terminal that she can just so make out in the gloom and powers it up, cold light stinging in her eyes.

She is pleased to find the process to be just as easy as they'd said, a simple matter of entering yet another set of access codes and inserting a data chip. Finding the chip however turns out to be quite difficult, what little light there is doesn't enter her handback and she can't turn the light on if she wants to avoid attracting attention, which means she has to feel for it, one small chip within the stuffed bag, the figurative needle in a haystack. She lets out a new string of curses.

At last her fingers touch an object of the right shape and she pulls it out triumphantly, holding it close to the terminal, using the light it emits to make sure it really is the chip before inserting it into the computer. Instantly several windows open on the screen, lines of code running through them so fast her eyes can barely follow, the virus working its magic. Earlier than expected a red countdown appears and she swears once again, the lack of time leaving her no choice but to screw her plans of deleting whatever surveillance footage of her there is. With the amount of cameras on this entire planet they'll find out about her sooner rather than later anyway. Instead she closes her bag and hurries to the door, hoping to whoever might listen that the tech-idiot is gone. He is and she smiles tensely at this small mercy, starting to jog back to the turbolift.

Three minutes. That's all the time she has to take another four lifts, use a stolen code on nearly every door she has to enter, make her way through countless uniform corridors. Three minutes until everything in this building turns to hell in a handbasket.

This time she draws curious and confused looks of her co-workers as she rushes by so fast she is almost running, breaking into a full-on sprint whenever there's no one to look, resulting in her panting heavily. She counts down the seconds in her head, but that's more to calm herself down because she has no idea if her countdown is accurate.

She's about 15 seconds off and still five floors away when it happens. The lights go off for a few seconds and she nearly stumbles in the total dark. For the first second the entire building is dead silent, like the concrete structure itself is holding its breath, then the screaming starts and doesn't stop when finally the emergency lights turn on, alarms are blaring and she can imagine the pure chaos in the busier floors. Panic wells up in her chest when she sees a security detail running towards her, but they run past in lockstep, not even looking at her. She doesn't give them a second glance either and starts running again. She knows that the turbolifts don't work during an alarm, so she runs right past them to the emergency stairways, the extra time this will cost doesn't sit well with her but she doesn't have enough breath left to swear. At least no one is giving her odd looks, wondering why she is running anymore.

She punches the override into the touchpad next to the doors and they glide open. The staircase is barely lit, even worse than the emergency light in the corridors, her heart beats faster and she needs a second to bring herself to start running again. More than a few times her feet almost miss the steps but it is only on the last flight of steps that her foot only finds air and she falls, the concrete hitting her tailbone repeatedly makes sharp spikes of agony shoot through her body but although she groans in pain when her fall has finally come to an end and is forced to catch her breath, she manages to suppress the tears.

Frustration floods Marla once again as she uses the hand rail to pull herself off her aching bottom, legs shaking under her weight. She is losing precious time. Slowly she limps over to the touchpad glowing next to the door. A door with the number of the storey she wants to reach on it. Only very few people, all of them well above her paygrade, have the security clearance to have access to this floor, the floor where the subjects are kept, her destination. Just to open this one door she not only has to use the emergency override but three more access codes, all of them twice as long as the normal ones. She searches her handbag for the weapon they'd sent her together with the instructions and the rather handsome amount of credits. Once she finds it, she gives herself a few seconds to lean against the wall next to the door, taking a few deep breaths to regain some semblance of calm and waits for the pain in her behind to abate a bit more before she opens the heavy door and enters the forbidden floor.

The first thing she notices is that while the emergency lighting here is much better than in the rest of the building, the colouring of the corridors is even more bleak, something she didn't think is possible. The second thing she notices is the sheer amount of security measures. There are cameras everywhere, all the doors look reinforced, there are photoelectric barriers at some, emergency hatches can be shut in regular distances, though the computer virus has obviously disabled that function. Now all she has to do is locate the subject, something she now realises will be much more difficult than she had thought, because all the doors are open and if the yells and occasional shots she can hear are any indication, some or perhaps even all subjects are escaped. She considers her suspicion confirmed when she sees the smudge of blood on the wall and a shiver of fear runs through her.

Of course she's heard the stories, everyone has. The stories children tell to scare each other at night. Any self-respecting adult citizen of the Core Worlds knows that this is all they are, just children's scary campfire tales and superstition of the people of the border planets and the Rim, but she remembers them anyway. _The men who went to the edge of space, where they stared into the void beyond, went insane and became what they saw: Nothing._ Reavers. The nightmare of most spacefarers, akin to mermaids on Earth-That-Was.

While her level of security clearance doesn't allow her direct access to the subjects or experimental results, her work often includes studying transcripts or recordings of some of them and though most of the ones she sees are animals, every now and then there is something that reminds her of those stories.

The orders being shouted get closer, so Marla decides to go the other way. She might be able to talk herself out of it if she is to be seen, but since she doesn't want to test that theory she slips into an empty lab at the end of the corridor and waits until the security detail passes while trying her best to picture the layout of this floor. The chances are slim that the subject she is paid to steal remained in his holding cell, but she will go there anyway, it's as good a point to start her search as any. There's no going back now.

She slips out of the room and begins making her way through the floor, a tiny bit of childish excitement at sneaking through a forbidden area makes her tense with energy as adrenaline shoots through her veins. She keeps an ear out for the noises of fights and shouted orders, thus she is able to evade being stumbled upon by some security guy. There is more blood on the walls and although it makes her nervous, she manages to stay somewhat calm.

Until she rounds the next corner and nearly throws up at the sight that presents itself to her. This corridor is a mess, the wall is riddled with bullet holes and in some places even scorched by phaser fire. Two security personnel, easily recognisable by their red shirts, lie on the floor, with eyes wide open and scratches on their faces. Though she knows that they are dead the moment she sees them, there seems to be no obvious cause of death. A third man lies next to them, his chest a similar picture to the wall. He is bald and very thin, unhealthily so, and dressed in a light blue something almost like a hospital gown. A subject.

Once again she takes a not-so-calming breath and continues on her way, careful not to step into the puddle of blood. She is still a fair bit away from the subject's holding cell as she hears the sound of fighting once again and she curses quietly. It seems to block her only way to the cell that doesn't require going all the way back and she's running out of time. She peers around the corner and her breath catches for two reasons, the first one being the headless corpse lying about two metres away from her, what probably used to be his head looks like someone had dropped a boulder on it, repeatedly. Another security agent screams as he is thrown across the entire corridor like a rag doll and connects with the wall with a sickening thud, slumping to the floor in a lifeless heap.

She found him! Of course she'd seen footage of KNS72339's session, but it doesn't do him justice. She doesn't have a clue what whoever is paying her for all this wants with him, but the moment she sees him it's clear why it's _him_ they want.

His skin is creamy white, a stark contrast to the charcoal black hair, his face angular with cheekbones she could cut herself on, he is tall and even underneath the hideous and now bloodstained hospital gown thing his lean but strong musculature is obvious. Despite his erratic movements, the dark circles underneath bloodshot eyes burning with chemically induced insanity and confusion, he still practically radiates 'alpha male' and there is an intensity in his gaze that threatens to make her knees weak. _Yum!_

Had she met him in a bar or wherever else outside this building, as a normal person instead of a subject, yeah, she'd totally do anything in her power to get him to fuck her.

Instead she creeps closer while one of the security agents fires stun shots at him, they apparently have orders to keep him alive, which is all the better for her, but not for them. KNS72339 barely flinches, they only slow him down and not even by much. She looks at the weapon in her hands with doubt, a gun-like contraption firing tranquilliser darts instead of bullets. They'd told her that this would drop him and while she could fire up to three at him, a single one of them would kill any other person. It had confused her then, but now she can see why this might be. She aims.

Their eyes meet the moment she pulls the trigger twice, something wild and confused in his icy grey-blue eyes. He sways and the third dart drops him. The two of what she estimates to be a dozen security agents left standing look at her, dumbfounded.

"What the..."

"Who..."

She fires twice more. As soon as the agents are hit they drop to the ground like puppets with their strings cut and, after a second or two, their bodies are shaken with seizures, red foam running from their mouths. When they finally still, she walks past them to KNS72339, careful not to slip on the blood covering the floor, since this time it's impossible to step around it. The contraption is still tightly clutched tightly in one of her hands while she uses the other to search her handbag for the Grav-Reductor, a small device working similarly to the anti-grav stretchers in hospitals. When she finds it, she bends down to attach it to his forehead, then check his pulse, which she finds to be slow but strong. He's unconscious but far from dead, even with three loads of whatever tranquiliser this is in his system. She can't resist running her now free hand down his torso, feeling well-defined pecs and abs and then lower, finding that part of him just as well equipped as the rest of his toned body. She licks her lips. Yes, she'd so let him fuck her.

His weight considerably reduced by the Grav-Reductor, she picks him up and makes her way to the extraction point they gave her carrying him, again using the sounds of fighting coming from all over the floor to avoid being seen.

* * *

 

**12 years ago - Vulcan [core planet]**

Two days ago, Starfleet has officially declared war on the Section. Though not surprising or unexpected, this event has shaken the entire cluster. For the last two days, this is all that's found in the news everywhere, be it a visual broadcast, a wave or an old-fashioned newspaper, be it the in Core Worlds or the Rim.

"Father?"

"What is it you wish to know?"

"Why has Starfleet declared war on Section 31? The Border Planets and the Rim have repeatedly declared their wish to improve their financial and medical situation, would it not be the most logical option to join Section 31 in order to reach said goal? To declare war instead seems highly illogical, and that is not even considering their educational and especially technological inferiority."

His father opens his mouth to reply, but his mother's gentle voice pre-empts him while she lovingly runs a hand through her son's hair, a nearly scandalous action had she done so in public.

"That's not what it's about, Spock."

He looks up at her, the smallest of frowns on his face.

"I do not understand."

She sighs and smiles warmly, also an action usually unbecoming for a member of the Order of Surak, but he finds, illogical as such a sentiment may be, he enjoys the sight.

"It's about freedom. Their right and their wish to live the way they please, without the constant judgement and surveillance by the Section. To be treated as equals by the Core Worlds, despite their choices and way of life being vastly different. Freedom, equality and justice are values humanity has always desired, everyone should have a right to them. To fight for this right is natural and even honourable, though the necessity for it saddens me, I find their motives to be comprehensible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it so far!
> 
> Any comments are more than welcome, I'd really like to know what you think!


End file.
